A Cure for the Blind

Chapter 37 - We Are Blood

Chapter Thirty-Seven

We Are Blood

Time had stopped.

It was like the three of them were under a paralyzing spell. The sound of loud thunder finally woke Victor out of his stunned state and he reacted at last. He ran towards the door, gun still in his hand, blazing through the room, fueled by survival instinct and raw necessity. Everything was at stake.

His actions seemed to have had a similar effect on Julius, for the man widened his eyes in fright and quickly proceeded to run, propelled by the same forces that moved Victor. When Victor was out of the house, Julius had already gained a good distance from him, but he didn’t panic – he was much younger and much fitter than his prey. His biggest concern was catching up to Julius before he found someone else or walked inside any building – if Julius shared even a fraction of what he had seen, all would be lost.

Victor wouldn’t allow that.

The two men kept running, Victor shortening their distance with every step. He was relieved to notice that all the buildings and bars were already closed, as it was already much too late into the night. He also knew that Julius was aware that screaming wouldn’t do anything for his cause – screaming, yelling and cries weren’t a novelty in St. Agnes’s nights, not even the sound of gunfire was – and most people ignored it, choosing not to meddle for fear or lack of care.

As they ran deeper and deeper into the city’s lonely roads, Victor began to feel tired, his legs screamed for rest and his lungs ached with exertion and being fed the cold, humid air, but his adrenaline and will gave him strength and resilience. He smiled inwardly, for he knew that if he was getting tired, poor old Julius, not used to escaping the perils of the night on foot, was probably feeling much, much worse. He would have to stop soon.

When it started to rain, Victor cursed, as it messed with his vision, which was already poor since the city was badly lit. Nonetheless, he could still make up Julius’s figure, closer and closer to him. The older man was obviously trying to lose his chaser by running deeper and deeper into St. Agnes’s oldest district, filled with narrow and dark streets that intertwined into complex labyrinths. Victor almost chuckled at this – it was obvious that, despite having witnessed Black’s murder, Julius was still unaware of his true identity, or he would’ve known his efforts were in vain – Victor knew the old part of the city probably better than him, he knew it better than the newer parts. He would never be able to fool him there.

The rain fell heavier and heavier on the two running figures with more thunder joining in on the grim atmosphere.

Finally, on a particular poor and dark street, bordered by a tall wall and the back of an old warehouse, Julius came to a stop. Victor mimicked him, only a few feet apart. He was tired, his breathing heavy, but it was nothing compared to the affliction of the older man. In a way, Victor pitied him. Julius had his back turned to him, his hands resting on his knees for support.

Victor grinned, opening his arms in a friendly way.

“Julius…”

The man turned around to face him with unexpected speed. Victor’s smile faded as soon as he realized Julius was also holding a gun – one that was unceremoniously pointed at him. He looked at Victor with an almost demented expression – his eyes were widened, his mouth was molded into a twisted smirk and his arm trembled, almost as if he was excited or extremely scared, Victor couldn’t decide.

“I knew it!” Julius said, in a rough voice that Victor had never heard from him before. “I knew you were bad news!”

With his arms half stretched to the rainy skies, Victor, who had been caught completely by surprise, had no other choice but to obey Julius’s gestures to drop his gun to the ground.